Welcome to Earth
by FishyFloat
Summary: This is a series of short one-shots that keep plaguing me. They're really not related, just random thoughts of things that I needed to get out of my skull. I really should be painting and prepping for a convention, but I want to write! *pokes the muse in an attempt to wake her up* Come on, Paint Muse! You're letting Writting Muse walk all over me! Ch3- A Tour of the Pond
1. Holy Underwear, Batman!

Disclaimer? Do I really need one? Seriously, if Disney cared about the Mighty Ducks, they wouldn't have sold the team and would get another season of the cartoon on air! But, as I value what little bit of cash I have stuffed away in the kitty litter, Disney owns the Ducks, Kevin Plank owns the company mentioned here, and I own a cat!

**Summary: **Wildwing needs some new clothes!

* * *

Wildwing sighed as he looked at the hole in his undershirt. This was the last one he had brought from Puckworld. Sure, Nosedive may have made fun of his tightly fitting, long sleeved green under clothes, but they were a necessity with his armor. The heavy breastplate, pauldrons, and gauntlets weighed at least fifty pounds. He needed the under armor to keep it from chaffing.

"Well, I'm sure the others have run into this too," he muttered to himself quietly. "I bet Tanya has a solution."

Deciding to wear his street clothes for a change, he left the armor on its metallic stand. It felt good to have his white and gold jacket on instead of that stuffy lathanoid armor. He grabbed the Mask off his armor stand and placed it on his face, the white surface instantly turning to gold as it sensed his warmth. Somehow, having it with him always made him feel more confident and in control.

The white drake walked down to Tanyas lab. She was always in there, working on some experiment, invention, or playing a game of solitaire. He wasn't surprised to find her hunched over her workbench, her omnitool busily soldering some electronics together in what looked like a new communicator.

"Hey, Tanya," he greeted.

She didn't look up. Clearly, this project required her attention.

He cleared his throat, trying again to pull her from her work. When she still didn't realize he was in the room, he stepped forward and gently laid a hand on her shoulder. The result was instantaneous. Tanya jumped up with a shriek and the communicator sparked before part of it melted.

"Wildwing! Duh-uh- You shouldn't scare me like that!" She inspected the damage with a sigh. "Now I have to start over." Scowling, she threw the piece of equipment on the floor. Bits of broken electronics and motherboards littered the floor around her stool, indicating how long she'd been working on this and rejecting parts. "What'd you want anyway?"

"Sorry." He sheepishly held out his shirt. "Do you have any way to fix this?"

She took it, still annoyed at the interruption. After inspecting it closer, she found the hole his armor had rubbed on the shoulder.

"Do I look like a seamstress to you?" She threw it back at him. "Just get a new one."

"But, I don't have any more," he complained.

Tanya was staring at the broken pieces on the floor and apparently liked some combination of them. She knelt down and started tossing bits back onto her table.

"Then just buy one!" Shaking her head, she started melding the new pieces together into Drake knows what.

Frustrated, Wildwing left. Maybe he could find something similar at the mall.

0000

Many hours and much embarrassment later, Wildwing had come to the conclusion that earthlings knew nothing about durable fabrics. Every t-shirt he'd tried had been too thin; they'd never make it through one battle, much less last for months like his old shirts had. The shirts that seemed durable enough were insanely thick and didn't breathe. He dreaded the thoughts of how sweaty those would make him.

If the clothing had been sub-standard, the salespeople were even worse. People either fell all over him in an attempt to be helpful or stared at him in a mixture of shock and fear. Then there had been that one little girl who had run away from her mom and kept pestering him, asking if he really was covered in feathers, and kept trying to grab his arm to see for herself when she didn't believe his answer.

The dejected leader sat on his bed, staring at the shirt laid out in front of him. He was still pondering what to do when Nosedive walked in, a stack of comic books in his hands.

"Hey, Big Bro," Nosedive smiled. "What you up to?"

"Plotting to take over the world." Wildwing smiled back.

"What, Draganaus not doing a good enough job of that, you have to start in too?" He looked over at the shirt after dumping his comics next to his bunk. "So, what's the grand scheme this time?"

"I was thinking of switching out all of the humans fabric with tin foil." The always confident team captain never let the rest of his allies see this goofy side of him. Nosedive was the only one who knew how crazy he could be when in the right mood.

Nosedive nodded thoughtfully, then motioned to the undershirt. "You'd be a roast duck if you tried replacing that with foil."

"Yeah, but nothing here is a good enough replacement."

"Those things are ugly anyway. Just find something else."

"Yours looks almost exactly like it. And I've already tried!" Wildwing fell back on his bed in exaggerated frustration. "Nobody on the planet has anything like this."

"Drama queen," Nosedive grinned and put his hands on his hips. "Have you asked Mallory for help?"

Wildwing looked up at his younger brother, the shocked expression not hidden by the mask nearly as well as he thought.

"I'm not going shopping with her. Remember the last time?" He shuddered at the memory. When they had first been stranded on Earth and needed equipment, he'd made the mistake of 'scouting suppliers' with her. Turns out, Mallory's idea of supplies was vastly different than his. Her stamina in battle was only outpaced by her shopping, a fact which Wildwing wished he didn't know firsthand.

"Bro, I'm not saying you should go shopping _with_ her. Just ask her where you can get another shirt. She knows every store in the city!" The youth fell onto his own bed and snagged one of his new comics. Flipping it open, he began reading, ignoring his brothers annoyed glare.

0000

Mallory was in the gym, going through her katas. Her purple judogi was tied with a black belt. Puckworld Special Forces may have their own moves, but she was a martial arts expert as well. Despite not having a proper partner to spar with, she continued to practice to stay in top fighting form.

After his initial brush off with Tanya, Wildwing was apprehensive about interrupting Mallory. Sure, Tanya blew things up, but Mallory could flatten him without even trying if she was in a bad mood.

"Hey, Mallory," Wildwing nervously began. "Do you know anywhere that sells good replacements for our armor?"

She paused, maintaining her balance in third stance.

"No," she didn't make eye contact as she shifted into dragon stance, followed by a quick turning heel kick. This is where she chose to bow to her imaginary opponent and turned her full attention to her team captain. "I've looked, but can't find anything quite right."

"Well, that's just great. What are we supposed to do with gear that's wearing out?"

She pointed to the shirt in his hand. "You've got holes too, huh?"

Just then, Phil decided to put in an appearance.

"Wildwing! Boobie! Listen, the Keen Bean Coffee Shop is going to name a drink after you guys and I need two of you for a public appearance."

"No."

"Come on, it's for a good cause!"

"No!"

"You'll get free coffee."

"You know I don't drink coffee, Phil."

Mallory grinned, thankful that she was dressed in her martial arts gear. If Phil even tried roping her into something, she'd just throw a few punches his way. Nothing would touch him, but she'd make sure he was scared enough not to bother her. As she went back to her practice, a though occurred to her.

"Hey, Phil, do you have any fabric like ours here on Earth?" She did a high kick in the air, leaving a definite impression of controlled power in the managers mind.

"Uh... I didn't pay much attention. What kind of fabric?"

Wildwing held out his holey shirt. "Something like this. Our gear is beginning to wear out and we need to replace some of it."

Phil took the shirt and fingered the material. "Nice," he muttered as he considered the thin, yet tough cloth.

Smiling to himself, Phil realized what a golden opportunity had jus been handed to him.

"I might know of something," the money hungry manager started. "I know a guy I can get you in contact with. _If_-" he poked Wildwing in the chest, "You help me out with the Keen Bean."

Growling to himself, Wildwing nodded.

"Fine."

"Well, they need two of you," Phil said, pushing his luck. "Who else?"

"Duke likes coffee. I'll talk to him."

"Boobie, you've got yourself a deal!" Phil held out his hand for a shake on the agreement.

Grudgingly, Wildwing shook Phil's hand before leaving. Hopefully, this was going to work.

0000

"Kevin?" Phil asked the person on the other end of his cell phone. "Remember how you've been trying to make an improved undershirt for your football games?

"Yeah... Yeah..." Phil put his feet up on his desk as he listened to Kevin Plank on the other end.

"Well, I've got exactly what you're looking for! Why don't you come by this afternoon and we can talk?"

0000

Wildwing looked suspiciously at the box Phil handed him. It had been a month since he'd handed over his last undershirt for the managers help in recreating the fabric. When he opened the box, he was surprised to find four new green, long sleeved undershirts exactly like the one he'd brought from Puckworld. The fabric felt right and the size looked good.

"So, what do you think?" Phil asked, grinning widely.

"I think you got it right!" The ducks eyes lit up as he inspected the shirt closer. "I can't tell the difference."

Phil rubbed his hands together greedily.

"I knew Kevin would pull through! I sold the patent for this cloth to him for a fortune! And, we get a percentage of all the profits from his new company. This is going to be a gold mine!"

"You did what?" Wildwing was not happy about having their technology, albeit textile technology, exploited by humans. They'd been over this when they first met their manager. None of their tech was to be used or sold without his express approval.

"Hey, relax," Phil soothed. "You asked me to get you replacements and I did. Besides, I worked it into our contract that you guys will get all the free gear you need. Kevin only sent these for you because yours was the only size he had. I just need to send him the rest of the teams measurements and he can make whatever you need! And the colors and gear he makes for you will be exclusive to the team." Phil crossed his arms and nodded emphatically.

Wildwing held the new shirt in one hand and rubbed the bottom of his beak with the other, deep in thought. He hadn't been clear on his intentions when he'd asked Phil for his help. Of course Phil would have turned this into a money maker. Still, the terms of the deal were in the teams favor and they did need the gear.

"Thank you, Phil." He grinned and picked the box back up off the counter where he'd set it. "I'll let the others know."

As the duck headed to his quarters to put away his new gear, he turned back to the manager.

"What's your friend calling his new company?"

"Well, since you said you needed this for under your armor, he named it Under Armor."

* * *

**Authors Note**: Figured I'd put this here in the bottom instead of giving it away at the top. It occurred to me the other day that Under Armor clothing is everywhere. Seriously, look for that logo next time you go to the mall and you'll see all sorts of people wearing it on non-athletic gear. Well, the name got me thinking about what you would wear under armor and this story popped up in my brain. Turns out, Under Armor was founded in 1996 (same year Mighty Ducks premiered on TV) by Kevin Plank. I took a little artistic liberty and have now declared that this ubiquitous clothing is alien technology!


	2. NHL Requirements

**AN:** 05/26/2013 Part two! I consider these little blurbs to be world building. It helps to get it out in writing instead of keeping it all in my head. This way, things make a little more sense for you as you read my bigger story. I am still working on War of the Oranges! Current page count- 41. Still haven't finished the first part of the second chapter. Oh what fun I have in store for our heroes )

This bit is supposed to take place during the second half of First Face Off. This is after they've landed, but before the NHL accepts the ducks as a team and before they've built their base. I'm thinking of pushing this one a little further, maybe in a second part. Either way, stupid writing muse is still pestering me! We'll see how this one goes over. I LOVE the reviews! Thank you so much for taking the time to let me know what you think of my stories =)

* * *

Phil Palmfeather stood on the stairs leading down to the rink, watching the alien ducks fly over the ice, shooting the puck back and forth, trying their hardest to get it past Wildwing. Occasionally, one would break from the team and run through what the human figured was a type of practice drill before rejoining the game. They were still dressed in the orange and burgundy uniforms they had found in the locker room. Somehow, Phil thought the colors weren't going to stick around once the team had been officially introduced to the world.

"Hey, guys! I got the paperwork!" He waved a stack of papers at his new team. "Come on up to my office when you're finished and we'll start getting you set up to join the NHL."

Wildwing smiled. He didn't know much about humans, but this one certainly seemed to be eager to get them in the National Hockey League. He could hardly believe their luck, finding an empty rink in a city without a team, and coming to the planet just before the start of Earth's pre-game season. Miraculously, it looked like they were going to be able to play with Earths best teams.

"We'll be up in a few," Wildwing called. "Okay team, practice is over."

Mallory and Tanya headed to their locker room while the guys went towards the away teams lockers. The locker room for the away team was nice, but the home team's was much nicer with better showers and a little more space.

"How come they always get the better showers?" Nosedive complained once he had stowed his gear in his temporary locker.

"Because they're ladies," Grin rumbled. "It's the polite thing to do."

Duke studied Nosedive thoughtfully, trying to guess his age and experience.

"You've obviously never lived with a woman. Have ya, kid?"

"Well, our mom."

"Nuh-uh. Not the same. If you're sharing living space with a woman, you learn pretty quickly that there are some things you never argue with them about. One is the bathroom. They will always get it first. Complain about how long they take at your own peril."

Nosedive made a dismissive noise at Duke. "Ah, you're full of it." He turned towards the showers, towel in hand.

"You should listen to him, baby bro. I'm sure Duke knows what he's talking about."

"Trust me," Duke warned. "Women can make your life hell in ways you wouldn't dream about if you get between them and a hot shower."

0000

Phil had six neat stacks of paper on clip boards waiting on his desk for the team when they walked in. A larger set of papers sat in front of him.

"You guys need to fill these out," he said as he handed each duck their set of papers. "And I've got the bulk of the paperwork for setting up the team. So, what are you guys going to name the team?"

Wildwing was a little surprised by the question. He'd never thought of a name his inherited team.

"The Mighty Ducks," Nosedive piped up, rescuing his brother from brain freeze.

"After Drake DuCaine's team?" Wildwing mused. It seemed like a good name.

"Yeah, why not?" Nosedive leaned back, his arms crossed behind his head and put his legs up on Phil's desk. "You've got DuCaine's mask, so that automatically makes us Mighty Ducks."

"Sounds good ta me," Duke added.

"I don't know, guys," Tanya waffled. "I mean, doesn't it seem a little, uh- pres-presumpto- arrogant to use that name?"

"The distinction between past, present, and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion," Grin rumbled.

"Then, we're the Mighty Ducks," Wildwing said. The name just felt right.

"Okay..." Phil wrote it down. "Now, I'm going to need your team colors." He glanced at the armor the ducks wore and realized there was a distinct color theme. "How about purple, teal, and white?"

"How did you know Puckworld's flag colors?" Tanya asked.

"Call it a lucky guess," Phil grinned.

"Works for me." Wildwing

"I guess we'll have to get some graphic designers to do a logo for you."

"No way, man! The mask is our symbol-o-choice." Nosedive nodded towards Wildwing. His brother may have put the mask back in his ammo bag after practice, but Phil would know what he was talking about.

"Who's captain here?" Duke asked Nosedive. "I don't recall Canard giving you the mask."

Wildwing raised an eyebrow at Duke, confused, annoyed, and still hurting from the loss of his friend.

"Lay off," Mallory finally joined the conversation. "He's had some good ideas so far."

"I don't need some kid making my decisions for me." He stood and started towards the door.

"Sit down," Wildwing ordered. He may not have fully accepted the role of leader; but, he certainly acted like one, whether he knew it or not. "This is for the team and we should all have our say."

Grumpily, Duke resumed his seat. He crossed his arms, slid down in his chair with his legs sticking out and crossed at the ankles. The one-eyed duck kept his head down a little, using his body language to close himself off. If there was one thing he knew, it was how to put people off without saying a word.

"Oohh-kay," Phil hunched over the papers once more, looking for the next question. "Aah, team roster. I need all of your full names and sizes for jerseys."

"Why do you need our last names?" Tanya asked, her expression showing wariness.

"For the backs for your jerseys."

"Nuh-uh!" She refused. "You're not putting my last name on a jersey."

"Come on," Phil tried to convince her. "It's the way we do things here. What's your last name?"

"Actually, she has a point," Wildwing said. "If we do last names on the jerseys, there'll be two Flashblades on the same team. That could get confusing for the other team. Just put our first names on them."

"Two Flashblades?" Phil was confused. "What, two of you are related?"

Nosedive laughed. "Come on, Phil-meister. Don't you see the family resemblance?" He pointed between himself and Wildwing, who was trying to hide a grin.

"Uh... No?" He thought for a moment. "You do have a point. I'll just put the first names on the jerseys. But! I'll still need your full names for the team roster we have to give the ref before each game."

Tanya groaned, but complied. "Vanderflock."

Phil kept the team cooped up in his office for hours, mercilessly forcing them to do the mountain of paperwork.


	3. A Tour of the Pond

**Authors Note:** 06/23/2013 This story is completely useless! Well, maybe not ;) I've been watching lots of videos of tours of NHL dressing rooms, locker rooms, and behind the scenes stuff to get a feel for what every day life would be like for the Ducks. The cartoons pretty much only show us three parts of the pond: the rink itself, the locker room, and Phil's office. This is me widening out the arena with more space, characters, and explaining just how they got their base built.

The following takes place during the second part of First Face Off. If some of the ducks seem out of character, it's because I'm playing with them a little bit. It takes time for a team to come together and work in unison. I don't feel like Canard would have waited longer than a week after putting his team together to go after Draganaus. So the ducks would know a little about each others background and skills, but not necessarily get along and work as a cohesive unit. That's up to Wildwing to make happen!

Enjoy :)

**edit 6/25-** Fixed some type-o's and refined the language in a few places. No big changes; just stuff that was bugging me!

* * *

"Rise and shine!" Phil walked into the players lounge of the Pond, holding a huge box of doughnuts with multiple coffee cups precariously balanced on top. Yesterday afternoon had been hectic with all the phone calls he'd had to make, not to mention figuring out sleeping arrangements for the ducks. He'd bought them all pizza for dinner, loathe to spend more than he had to. Still, he knew anything he spent on them now was just a good investment. Once these guys started actually playing pro hockey, he'd be rich!

The player lounge was a wide, open area intended for the home team to gather and hang out when not practicing or training. The walls were painted white, bordering on light blue. Dark blue carpet covered the floor. The far wall was lined by a long counter with sink, refrigerator, microwave, coffee maker, and inset hot plates for keeping food warm after a game. A granite surfaced table big enough to sit twelve occupied the middle of the room; white pendulum lights hung above it. An air hockey table and foosball table sat near the dining table. Large, overstuffed leather chairs were positioned around an empty end table. A white half wall separated the two couches and television from the rest of the lounge.

Three of the six ducks were sound asleep on the floor. The guys had taken the outer portion of the player lounge to sleep in and let the girls have the two couches in the TV area near the back. Tanya had been nice enough to suggest removing the cushions from the back of the couches so the guys would have makeshift pillows. Phil had raided the laundry room for towels and found some sheets in the medical facility.

"Five more minutes," Nosedive muttered. The teen was laying on his stomach, towels tangled around his legs and a couch cushion over his head.

Duke yawned and sat up. He ran his fingers through his hair a few times, trying to straighten it out a little.

"Mornin' already?" The former thief slowly twisted side to side once he stood, gently cracking his back. "Musta been more tired than I thought."

"Traveling through dimensions can really mess with your system," Tanya said as she walked into the room, adjusting her glasses to a more comfortable position.

"Come on, kid. Time to get up." Duke gently rocked Nosedive's shoulder.

Nosedive tried to slap the hand away, but failed. His arm fell to the floor again and he continued to try sleeping.

"Where's Wildwing? And Mallory?" Phil looked around for the two missing players.

"Mallory got up earlier and said something about a morning workout," Tanya answered.

Nosedive finally rolled over and sat up.

"Wildwing's missing?" He looked a little panicked as he took in the room, then relaxed as he realized where they were. "Did anyone check the rink? He's probably skating." He stretched his arms over his head as a huge yawn escaped from his beak.

"I'll go check the rink and see if I can find him and Mallory," Phil offered. "You lot stay here till I get back." He turned and left the room.

Duke stood over Grin and nudged him in the ribs with his foot.

"Hey, wake up."

The slumbering giant didn't move, despite the prodding.

"Yo! Grinster! Wakie wakie!" Nosedive joined in on trying to wake the large duck.

"Grinster?" Duke gave Nosedive a confused look.

Nosedive smiled and went over to the cabinets above the sink. Unfortunately, all of the dishes had been removed when the Frogs moved to New Jersey. He kept opening doors until he found a forgotten stack of styrofoam cups on the top shelf of a cabinet. Setting the pile on the counter for later use, he filled one with warm water and walked back to Grin.

"Come on, Grin," he coaxed. "Time to get up." He held the cup above the large ducks beak, tipped almost enough to drip water on him, but held back.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Tanya warned.

When Grin still didn't respond, Nosedive started slowly pouring the water on his face. Frustrated at the lack of movement, he dumped the whole cup. Grin still didn't wake up.

"Geeze. Guy doesn't just look like a rock; he sleeps like one too!" Nosedive dropped the cup on Grins chest and walked off to snag a doughnut.

Tanya knelt next to Grin and checked for a pulse. She was relieved to find one.

"I guess he's just a really deep sleeper," she said.

"Eh. He'll get up when he's ready." Duke picked up a cup of coffee and sniffed it before taking a drink. He seemed pleased enough with the taste.

"You gotta try one of these, Tanya," Nosedive suggested around a mouthful of cream filled doughnut. He swallowed and grabbed a smaller, glazed doughnut and stuffed the whole thing in his mouth at once.

The spectacled duck looked over her options and chose a cinnamon sugar covered one. A small bite proved the food to be super sweet, but very tasty. She took a cup of coffee too and moved to the large table.

"So, do we have any plans of what to do from here?" She asked.

"Nuh-uh," Duke answered. He brought the whole box of doughnuts to the table when he sat. "Wildwing should be the one to decide our next move. He's Team Captain after all."

Nosedive gave Duke a sideways look as he reached for another doughnut. He very much doubted his brother would welcome the role that had been thrust upon him.

"Leave some for the rest of us, will ya?" The one eyed duck slapped Nosedive's hand away from the box of pastries.

"Breakfast here?" Mallory asked as she entered the room. She was very sweaty and breathing hard. A white towel was slung around her neck. Clearly, she'd been serious about working out.

"More like dessert," Tanya replied as she finished the cinnamon sugar doughnut and started to select another one.

Mallory slowly walked around the room, trying to cool down. She picked up a cup of coffee, made a face at the pungent aroma, and set it back down, opting for water instead.

"I guess Phil went looking for Wildwing." Mallory randomly picked a cream cheese danish from the box as she circled the table. "He was out on the ice, last I saw him."

"Kinda figured that," Nosedive swiped another doughnut before Duke could stop him. "He used to skate for an hour every morning before the invasion."

"What's this?" a deep voice rumbled. Grin had finally decided to get up.

"Breakfast. Kinda sweet, but good." Mallory continued to pace.

Grins eyes lit up with delight at his first bite. He grabbed two more.

"Found him!" Phil came back with Wildwing just behind him. "I guess you guys are pretty serious about hockey. Never would have dreamed I'd find one of you practicing before you even had breakfast."

"Morning everyone," Wildwing greeted. He was in his civilian clothing and slightly sweaty. Bags under his eyes showed how little sleep he had gotten.

Nosedive picked another glazed doughnut out of the box and tossed it to Wildwing, who caught it easily and studied it before taking a bite.

"Coffee's over there," Phil pointed to the counter. "Now, when you guys are done in here, I've planned a full tour of the Pond for you. After that, we can go apartment hunting. I'm not sure how you guys are going to handle the first months rent and all, but we've got to figure out somewhere for you to stay."

"We can't stay here?" Wildwing asked. "Seems like as good a place as any."

"People do not live in hockey arenas," Phil informed him.

"We don't exactly have any money," Duke reminded. "Now, I could take care of that little problem. But, I don't think the rest of you would appreciate where it came from."

"If I catch you taking anything that isn't yours," Mallory glared at him, "I'll clobber you so hard you'll wish Draganaus had incinerated you."

"You'd have ta catch me first, sweetheart, and nobodies managed that yet."

"We're not stealing anything," Wildwing broke in. "There has to be some other way. Anyway, we're here to capture Draganaus and his goons, not settle on a new planet."

"How?" Tanya asked. "We don't have any way to track him, nowhere to live, and no idea if the humans will even accept us here."

"That's where I come in," Phil proudly pointed to himself. "I know a lot of people in public relations. I'm working on a campaign to announce you to the world and get you into the NHL. You'll be able to play hockey against the best teams on the continent. When you guys do interviews and stuff, you'll be paid. As your loveable manager, I'll get forty percent. The first interview is set for later this afternoon. But, I wanted to take you all on the full tour of the Pond so you know what's where."

"Uh, no." Duke looked at Phil, daring him to object. "Three percent."

"What? That's highway robbery! I do a lot of work. I should get thirty-five percent, at least."

"Thirty-five is too high, but I do like the sounds of five percent."

Wildwing raised an eyebrow at the quick negotiating going on. He knew Duke had experience as a jewel thief, but not with salary negotiations.

"Thirty percent?" Phil offered hopefully.

"I might go as high as ten, if ya let me edit my contract the way I want it."

"That's not even enough to make my car payment," Phil complained.

"Fine, fifteen." Duke crossed his arms.

"Twenty?"

"Fifteen. And I get ta say what's in my contract."

"Fine," Phil grumbled. "I've already got contracts up in my office. We'll swing by there after I take you guys apartment hunting."

"I don't see why we can't stay here," Grin loomed over Phil. He liked hockey and the arena was nice and cool. Considering how hot the rest of the planet was, he didn't want to spend a lot of time outside looking for somewhere to live.

"Uh... Sure," the human gulped. "You guys can stay here if you want. No need to go looking at apartments. It'll be cheaper anyway!"

"We'll take that tour after breakfast," Wildwing accepted.

0000

"I've recalled all of the staff from before the Mighty Frogs left," Phil informed the team as he led them down a curved hallway. "You've already seen the locker room and player lounge. First up is the equipment room."

Phil led them into a room filled with blades for skates, skate sharpeners, sticks, and all the tools needed to keep hockey equipment in top shape. An older gentleman stood in the room. His skin was so dark it was almost black. He kept his curly hair close cut to the point of near baldness.

"I'm Chuck, the equipment manager," he introduced himself as he shook hands with Wildwing. "My job here is to take care of all your equipment on the road and at home games. My crew will sharpen your skates, do any necessary repairs, pack and transport your gear to away games, set up the dressing room for you, do your laundry. Basically, anything that's related to your equipment, we'll take care of."

"Nuh-uh," Duke protested. "Nobody handles my gear but me. I sharpen my skates, I tape my own sticks, I do my own laundry."

"Little trust issue there, buddy boy?"

Duke glared at Nosedive's snide comment.

"You're games only as good as your gear. I ain't lettin no one mess with it." The gray duck crossed his arms and glared at Phil.

"Ooh-kay..." Phil tugged on his tie a little. Despite only having one eye, that stare could kill. "So, Duke handles his own equipment. No problem. What about the rest of you?"

"I'll maintain my own gear as well," Mallory asserted. Puckworld Special Forces soldiers always took care of their own stuff.

Nosedive started laughing at how serious she was.

"Yeah, and I'll bet you named your puck bazooka."

"Hey!" She forcefully pointed a finger at his face. "You leave Chester out of this!"

"Guys, guys," Phil tried to soothe. "It's no big deal. Chuck here's a professional. If you don't want him doing something, just tell him. Otherwise, he'll take care of anything you need."

Chuck nodded and smiled. "I can understand that you may have your own particular ways of doing things. The players for the Frogs each had a certain way they wanted their skates grooved or jerseys pressed. I have an excellent system for keeping everything in order. We managed a team of twenty-six and never made a mistake. Taking care of the gear for six-" he paused at Duke and Mallory's stares. "Or four, should be extremely simple. I'll have each of you show me how you like your stuff handled and make notes. You can rest assured I will personally handle everything unless you give my assistant permission."

"Thank you for the help," Wildwing began. "I appreciate your willingness to work around our differences."

"You do glove repair and modifications?" Tanya asked.

"Sure do," Chuck nodded towards a large sewing machine behind him. "We had a player who wanted to wear the same pair of gloves the whole season. Called them his lucky hand warmers. I've gotten very good at keeping them in one piece."

"Phew," Nosedive waved a hand in front of his nose. "That hadta stink."

"You have no idea," Chuck agreed.

"How about removing fingers from the gloves?" Tanya held up her hand and spread her fingers out.

The equipment managers eyebrows shot up in surprise. How had he not noticed that these ducks only had four fingers? He would certainly have his work cut out for him with this group. Suddenly, he was very thankful there were only six of them.

"Sure. Hang on a sec." He vanished down a hallway and returned with a pair of gloves. "Think these will fit any of you?"

Wildwing took the gloves and tried them on. The fit was snug, so he passed them on to Nosedive. The youth smiled as he tried them on.

"Yeah, not bad." He flicked at the empty little finger portion of the glove.

Chuck pinched down the excess fabric and drew a line around it with a piece of chalk. He turned the youths hand over and continued to make marks on the black fabric. When he was finished, he removed the gloves from Nosedives hands and set them on the counter next to the sewing machine.

"Come back in two hours and we'll see how these fit. If my modifications meet your approval, I can start working on gloves for all of you."

"This way, if you will," Phil waved the team along. He led them deeper into the equipment managers domain. "That over there is the laundry room."

The room held four high capacity washers and dryers. Racks of empty hangers lined one wall. Huge canvas bins were neatly lined up under the hangers. A shelf full of neatly folded, white towels was directly across from the washing machines.

"Over here is the stick room."

The stick room was aptly named. It contained hundreds of hockey sticks in varying sizes and makes. Nubs of glue lay on one counter. There was a clamp and hack saw for cutting sticks, wooden rods for adding length to the cut sticks, bins full of tape, and a heat gun for melting the glue or curving the stick blades. Empty wooden racks with player numbers separated by pegs were positioned just inside the door. As each duck modified their hockey sticks, they could leave them in the rack with their number so the equipment manager could quickly fetch a replacement whenever it was needed.

"And through here," Phil led them into the very back of the equipment department, "Is where all the extra gear is stored."

Four shelving units the size of elephants occupied the space. They were all completely empty.

"Well, it will be once we figure out your sizes and what brands you like. We usually have stuff in plastic bins in here. If you need new skates, socks, or anything, you'll find it in here. Or, you can just ask Chuck and he'll get it for you."

0000

"This here is our treatment and therapy center." Phil led them into a very professionally appointed medical center. Four black topped exam tables with wooden legs and storage for bandages and other supplies underneath took up half the room. Each table had a smaller, round roller chair at the end for a therapist or doctor to sit on while talking to an injured player. Directly across from the tables was a long, black counter with drawers and cabinets full of supplies underneath. The last exam table had a portable x-ray machine stationed next to it and a light box mounted on the wall. Pictures of mountains and nature hung above the supply counter. A leather couch rested along the back wall. The door next to the couch led into a smaller room with a massage table in the middle. The door on the other side of the couch led to the therapy center offices.

"And this lovely lady is Dr. Kathryn Lowes, our treatment center chief of staff."

Dr. Lowes stood about five foot two, only slightly shorter than Mallory. Her straight, blond hair was tied back in a neat ponytail that fell to her mid back. Her oversized, white lab coat covered the knee length pencil skirt and powder blue blouse she wore. She appeared to be very young, especially to be in charge of the entire medical center at the Pond.

"It's nice to meet you all," she waved to the new team. "I know I don't look like much, but I do know what I'm doing. I graduated top in my class and have been with the Mighty Frogs for the past five years. Doctors Kawa and Boulder weren't able to come back in on such short notice, but they will return in a couple of days. Dr. Kawa is an excellent massage therapist and Dr. Boulder specializes in sports injuries and concussions."

"Babe, you're gorgeous!" Phil tried to hug her, but was instantly pushed back.

"You're just saying that because you want me to come back for less than I was making before." Her no-nonsense tone made sure Phil knew she wasn't joking. "You know what my salary requirements are. If I'm going to be working with aliens, I just might have to charge you more." She winked at Phil.

"What? No! You'll be paid the same, I promise."

"Everyone else too?"

Phil looked a little uncomfortable at the demand, but nodded.

"Good. Now, we'll have to set up an appointment for all of you so I can establish a base-line of what you consider healthy. It won't be much, just resting heart rate, elevated heart rate, blood pressure, and the like. Do any of you have some sort of medical training?"

"I know field first aid," Mallory offered.

Tanya nervously looked at the group and wasn't surprised to see them all shaking their heads.

"I, uh, know a little," she offered.

"Well, anything you can tell me would be a great help. I'll show you the rest of our little office here. There's a big closet back there for supplies. If you need anything like Tylenol or an anti-histamine, just ask. And through here," she opened a door, "Is our aquatic treatment center."

Small blue and white tiles covered the walls and floor, making the room echo. What looked like two hot tubs were sunk into the floor; one big enough to seat eight and the other big enough to hold two. A rubbery rectangle lay just past the pools.

"These are our hot and cold tubs. You can use the cold one to help with lactic acid build up or for injuries. And you're welcome to rotate between the two. This," she said as she jumped up and down on the rubbery rectangle, "Is our aquatic treadmill. It lowers into a pool about five feet deep. There's a hatch over there so doctors can go under and watch the mechanics of knee movement or whatever is needed and evaluate recovery."

Tanya nodded in appreciation for how well appointed the medical facility was.

"We also have a TV up there," Dr. Lowes motioned to the wall mounted unit. "That way, you can relax while doing your therapy. Over there," she pointed down some stairs, "Is a steam room. The other door at the end of that hall leads into your locker room. This way, you can use the aquatic center whenever you want."

"It sounds like you've planned for everything," Wildwing said as he looked around. "I'm hoping we won't have to use your services."

"Same," Dr. Lowes smiled. "But, we're here in case you do. We also treat players from the away team if they're injured in a game; so, please, don't go beating them up too badly. I prefer my job to be boring."

"I would never hurt a fellow hockey player," Grin replied.

"Well, on with the tour!" Phil led them out of the facility and continued deeper into the private areas of the pond.

0000

The ducks entered what looked like a public gym. Rows of stationary bikes, treadmills, weight machines, and free weights filled the space. Mirrors lined three of the four walls. A large open area was padded with blue cushions for floor exercises. Three golden slideboards for simulating on-ice training were against the one un-mirrored wall.

"This is pretty much just a gym," Phil said. "You can come in here and work out whenever you want."

Duke walked to the mats and started counting as he paced the length of it. He seemed satisfied as he whipped out his saber and started fighting an invisible foe.

"This ain't bad!" He exclaimed happily, keeping his good eye to the mirror so he could see his form as he practiced.

"Is there a punching bag?" Mallory asked a little too sweetly.

"Uh, I think so. Probably in that storage closet," Phil replied. "Why?"

"Darn. Guess I can't use that pompous oaf for practice after all."

"Any time you want a go round, just ask," Duke deactivated his saber and replaced it on his shoulder. "I'd be glad ta show you some real moves."

"All right, you two. Cool it." Wildwing was getting fed up with the bickering between Mallory and Duke. He was going to have to figure out some way to get them to work together. At this point, he didn't care if they liked each other; he just wanted them to be able to tolerate each other enough to work as a team. Hopefully playing hockey together would help them cooperate.

"So, I'm starving!" Phil patted his ample belly. "Who wants lunch?"

0000

Next up, Phil took the group to the Team Cafeteria. The room was large enough to easily hold fifty. Green topped square tables were arranged on one side of the room; each one big enough to seat eight at once. Long tables covered with white table cloths held a buffet along one wall. Platters of fruit, salads, broiled chicken breast, barbeque ribs, pasta salads, pastries, and desserts were laid out. The kitchen crew all stood at the end of the buffet, their white chefs coats clean and tidy.

"Guys, meet Kari," Phil introduced a short, plump lady.

Kari appeared to be in her mid twenties. She was short and round with a smile that rivaled Nosedives. It was impossible to guess her hair color as it was covered by a dark brown bandanna. Her makeup was perfectly done, but stuck to lighter colors.

"It's a pleasure to meet you all," she greeted. "The rest of my kitchen crew is Matt, Sarah, and Shanna." Each team member nodded and waved a little as their name was called. "We prepared all of the Frogs favorites since we didn't really know what you eat. Please, let us know if there are any special dietary restrictions any of you may have. We did prepare all of this soy free and nut free just in case."

Tanya looked over the food. It was all beautifully presented, but much of it was inedible to the ducks.

"Well, we're-uh- Um." She wasn't sure how to politely point out the mistakes in food that was offered to them. "We don't really eat- uh- meat."

"Oh!" Kari's eyes widened in surprise. She looked thoughtful for a moment. "I guess that makes sense." She looked over at the food and turned a little red. "Matt, would you please get that chicken out of here?"

The bearded guy quickly broke from his place in line and picked up the platters of chicken and ribs to return them to the kitchen.

"How about eggs? Dairy? Fish?" The head chef was trying to be as thorough as possible.

"No eggs," Tanya confirmed. "We do eat fish, but I haven't had a chance to analyze much of the food here. I have no idea how it might affect us!"

"It's food, Tanya," Nosedive scoffed. He picked up an apple and took a bite. "I say eat it and be happy."

"Yeah. Besides, you can't go scrutinizin' every little thing on the planet," Duke agreed.

"Tanya does have a point," Wildwing countered. "For now, we should stick to what we know. We can slowly try the rest later."

Mallory grabbed a plate.

"I think we can decide after lunch. Those doughnuts from breakfast don't fill you up for long!"

The rest of the team agreed and lined up to get food. Lunch was a pleasant affair with conversation floating between the team and members of the Pond staff.

0000

Everyone was eager to hit the ice after lunch. It had been pretty difficult to play hockey under the saurian occupation, even for the resistance. When survival was top priority, even something as important and central to their culture as hockey took a back seat. Staying at a hockey rink was like paradise to the ducks. They could skate whenever they wanted and forget where they were, just for a little while.

Mallory slammed the green locker closed a little harder than she intended to. It was annoying having to play in ill fitting equipment left over from a team that had deserted the rink. The fact that she didn't have gloves irritated her even more.

"Ya know, we can't let everyone know we plan on living here," Duke said as he laced up a skate. "Draganaus will figure it out sooner or later and try blowing this place up."

"Yeah, not to mention having lots of curious humans sneaking in here," Tanya added.

"It'd be awesome if we had a secret base," Nosedive grinned. "It'd be like in the comic books!"

"Actually, that's not such a bad idea." Tanya rubbed the bottom of her beak, deep in thought. "If we could build it under the arena, we'd have access to the Pond, but still have some privacy and protect everyone here from the Saurians."

"Do you think it's possible?" Wildwing asked. "I mean, how would we build it under the arena without tearing the whole place down? And how do we keep it a secret from everyone who works here?"

"Didn't Phil say something about earthquakes?" Mallory spoke up. "We could say we're fixing the foundation or something."

"I can build some robots to help with the digging," Tanya mused. "We'd still have to do a lot of the work ourselves. And there's the matter of a secret elevator. It'd make the most sense for it to come up here, since this is a player only area."

"That's easy!" Mallory exclaimed. "We need to remodel this locker room anyway. I'm not about to share the showers if I don't have to. Nobody will question a little remodeling for the sake of our modesty."

Nosedive tried to hold back a laugh.

"Nah. She's right," Duke glared at Nosedive. "It's the perfect cover."

"What about paying for all this?" Wildwing was concerned about legally obtaining funds for the building materials.

"Easy," Duke answered. "We'll get enough from signing bonuses to pool our funds and buy the Pond. After we play three games, we get an advance on the next eight. That'll be more than enough to pay for everything we need."

Wildwing was surprised. He'd read through the contract, but had a difficult time making out everything. It still wasn't signed.

"You could understand all that legal mumbo-jumbo?" Nosedive's question echoed his brothers thoughts.

"Sure. Ain't hard to read 'em if ya know a little bit about the legal system and contracts. Lawyers always make things harder to read so you have to pay them more money."

"Since when do thieves know the basics of contract law?" Mallory asked suspiciously.

"Gotta know the rules before you can break 'em, darlin'."

"Sounds like we have a plan." Wildwing interrupted before a fight could begin. "We'll get our base set up and then we can start searching for Draganaus. Now, let's play some hockey!"


End file.
